


Lighthouse

by Recluse



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, Iwaizumi's POV, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 08:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5779390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Recluse/pseuds/Recluse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is always a light to guide him up and out of the tempest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lighthouse

Oikawa’s ambition is angry.

Hajime has always known this.

 _Oikawa_ is delicate. He’s fragile. He likes to wrap himself up in layers as if trying to protect something, hiding everything in deep pockets and messy places until he thinks nobody can find the things he’s put away. He overanalyzes, seeks to know every part of a person so he can be sure to dismantle them if he needs to, takes note of every word, every motion, every glance and every unconscious tic, uses all those things to get to the heart of someone in a way that isn’t any of his business. He’s nervous, if anything, Hajime thinks, he’s neurotic, he’s obsessive. He stays up late watching past games and picking them clean, like some kind of volleyball vulture. Hajime can’t count the number of times he’s yelled at him for it, too many to remember.

But, and Hajime knows, feels it almost intrinsically, Oikawa’s ambition, his desires, his pride -- those are angry things, taking the shape of the sea, deep and unending, raging under the carefully made surface, all light smiles and easygoing conversation, flashy and yet, when he wants to be, hard to find. He disappears as quickly as he reappears, blending into the background when it suits him.

Hajime thinks it’s bullshit.

(Hajime thinks it’s beautiful.)

Oikawa is his best friend, though he never tells him that because he always makes too much of a fuss over it if he does, Oikawa is his volleyball partner, Oikawa is his friend from too many years ago, and Hajime is the only one who can read Oikawa like a book, page by page, no matter the language. There are things about him that are hard to understand, and things he doesn’t really get, but at the end of it all, Hajime knows the core, and with Oikawa, that’s further than anyone has ever gotten.

And Hajime knows this, has seen it burst forth --

\-- Oikawa’s ambition is angry, relentless, violent like the sea in a constant storm.

And Hajime cannot look away.

* * *

The first time is in middle school, trying to drag Oikawa out of the gym, because he’s been practicing too hard for too long and running himself ragged, and Hajime knows his breaking points because he has to. Oikawa doesn’t keep track of himself, doesn’t think he ever needs to stop, the concept doesn’t even cross his mind if he gets caught up in something -- and that’s why Hajime keeps his eyes on him, because if he doesn’t, Oikawa will throw his everything into it, beating himself up through every volleyball he uses.

(Hajime likes Oikawa’s ambition. He relates to it. They’re friends because he saw it, buried behind the smile he uses, the desire to consume, vast, stretching through his bones.

But it also drags at his ankles, beckons him to get swept up and never come out. And Oikawa himself is too delicate, too easy to break under the weight, the pressure he can create within himself, all swirling and fierce, like a vortex.)

It hurts to watch him like this, the tension in his shoulders day by day, the ache in his eyes. The sound of an empty gym, save for the echo of a hit that’ll never satisfy. The way he never asks, “Am I good enough?”, because he already thinks the answer is no and won’t listen to anything else.  

He’s never been very good at listening to others when he’s stressed.

That’s why Hajime has to play rough.

It’s not his fault when Oikawa snaps and almost slaps Kageyama, and it’s not his fault when Oikawa’s face crumples at what he’s almost done like he can’t believe he’s fallen this far. But Hajime hates it, hates the look on his face, hates the way Oikawa has bound himself into the middle of his ambitions and let them tear him apart, pulling him down. He can’t do that to himself.

(He won’t let him do that.)

The only way Hajime knows is force, and that’s the only way to get through Oikawa’s thick skull. So he headbutts him and yells, pushes Oikawa’s ambitions out his head through his ears and tries to replace a part of it.

_It’s not just you, dumbass. Don’t make yourself useless because you think it is._

“There are six players on the volleyball court!”

And he drags him up from the sea of his ambition like a fish, struggling, pulling, determined.

Oikawa comes up easy though, almost like he was looking for a line, a hook, something.

(“Iwa-chan, listen, come on!”

“Don’t call me that.”  
  
“It’s important though!”

“Yeah yeah, I’m listening, whatever.”

“Ugh, Iwa-chan, this is why you aren’t popular!”

“OI-”

“But, uh, thanks. For stopping me.”

“...I-”

“Ah well, my reputation would have suffered! And it hurts! A lot! I lost so much blood, what would you have done if I passed out before your speech? Such violence, Iwa-chan!”

“Shut up, dumbass.”)

* * *

The second time is their second year of high school.

In retrospect, Hajime thinks he should have seen this coming. The coaches had been working him down, the upperclassmen and underclassmen had already started to rely on his skills, and the high chance of becoming captain had taken root, heavy with every step. He’d been frustrated about the way his serves didn’t make it past a sixty percent success rate. Still ruminating on his worst points, worried about breaking the trust he’d been receiving. Getting distracted by Shiratorizawa, and overly focused on improving as much as possible.

Hajime had assumed Oikawa understood what he’d meant when he’d told him that there were six people on the court. Hajime had assumed he would only need to be told once, that he would remember properly, that his ambition wouldn’t come back roaring, crashing against him, and that he wouldn’t start cracking at the first reawakening.

He was wrong, of course. Oikawa is too stubborn to do something that makes sense, and he’s never liked listening to Hajime anyways.

A single, accidental slip on the landing of a jump serve and his knee gives way, and for a moment, Hajime thinks, _how could this happen to you?_

(Oikawa’s ambition is angry, is violent, is brutal and passionate and

 

glorious, when he rises, and cruel, when he falls.)

They take him to the hospital and Hajime follows and waits, nerves more on edge than he’d thought because he’d never considered volleyball without Oikawa, not at this point. The distant future, maybe, but not now at sixteen, when barely anything has started. He doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t even want to have it as a concept in his head.

Oikawa is annoying, and loud, and obnoxious, and never knows how to keep his mouth shut or his honest feelings in check if they’re malicious, but he’s Hajime’s best friend, the only one who can read him open and he’s the only one Hajime can do that to in return. He’s the only one who can toss to him without a single flaw almost every time, and the one he trusts on the court more than anyone else, and he can’t lose that. Not now.

He clenches his hand into a fist and hates how this happens.

* * *

Oikawa does not cry, when Hajime first sees him.

He is upset, but in that quiet way that says he’s hit a rock bottom point, the air around him still and stale, so much pressure radiating off him that even Hajime is hesitant, for a moment. He’s sitting there, looking at nothing in particular, like he doesn’t even exist, slipping away from reality into a place that’s all his and splitting him apart.

“Hey.” Hajime says.

Oikawa doesn’t move.

“Ah, Iwa-chan, here to yell at me again?”

(There he’s gone, into the blackness of something he can never satisfy, never contain.)

“Yeah.” He says, even though it comes out softer than he’d meant. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Well,” And he’s trying to be flippant and it pisses Hajime off, “you saw me practice, Iwa-chan! I had no clue that would happen until it did!”

“Bullshit. Pay attention to your own body, dumbass.”

He starts to step forward when Oikawa turns to look at him, and there’s a hurricane in his eyes, fire and brimstone and fifty foot waves, and he snaps.

“Iwaizumi,” And he stops because that’s rare, “how can I pay attention to something like that when our next match is coming?”

It’s the stupidest thing Hajime’s ever heard, but he can’t reply, too caught in the rage of Oikawa’s expression, something he hasn’t seen before like this.

“I know what you said. I know what you said, but I can’t,” Hajime can see the cracks as if they’re on his skin, “stand it. If the team with the better six is stronger, isn’t their leader supposed to be the strongest?”

(It’s a passing thought that Hajime will think of later as absolutely useless and extremely random, but Hajime thinks he can hear the sea as if he’s there, standing in the middle of the storm as it crashes around him, that they aren’t in a little hospital room but somewhere bigger, neverending, all consuming.)

“I want to be better. I have to be. I _need_ to be.” Oikawa says, brittle, breathless, “Don’t you get it? I can’t stop practicing. I can’t relax for even a second or else I'll fall behind. I can’t-”

And he breaks, because Oikawa is delicate, and the force of his ambitions is not.

“I can’t, I-”

He hiccups, wails, and the sea disappears and suddenly Oikawa is just the same kid that Hajime saw cry over scraped knees and game losses. The same one that used to burst into tears because he couldn’t best Hajime at something stupid, the same one who used to play dirty and cry and pout when Hajime called him out on it, and the same one who Hajime yelled at in middle school, and the same Oikawa he knows all the pieces of, even though right now they’re all over the floor while Oikawa is armorless.

He should have seen this coming. _How did I miss all of this_ , he thinks, looking at the mess that is Oikawa, tears and snot and tension, and he rolls his eyes and grabs a nearby tissue box and thrusts it at him when he gets to his bedside.

“You don’t know what the hell I said at all.” Hajime says, and he knocks Oikawa lightly on the forehead, because he really doesn’t want to headbutt him, and even if he did, all the nasty gunk coming from him would get all over him instead. “You never listen to me.”

Oikawa doesn’t answer, blowing his nose.

(It’s...Cute, Hajime thinks, and then is horrified at himself.)

“You aren’t alone on the court.” Hajime says, and Oikawa looks at him, expression open. “There are six of us there. We’re not working based on everyone being strong individually, at least, not on that alone.”

He reaches out again, but only to flick his head. Oikawa cringes, hand over the red spot.

“Haven’t you ever heard that story about the sticks or whatever?” He continues, hands on his hips. “One breaks under pressure, but not a group of them? That’s volleyball, dumbass.”

Oikawa used to be shorter than him, he remembers. He used to complain about it all the time, and he still isn’t as strong as Hajime by a long shot. He’s smart in school, but complains endlessly about subjects he doesn’t like, whether he's doing well in them or not. He loves milk bread and other sweets that taste similar, and doesn’t care about how awkward it is for two guys to be a cutesy bakery. He pushes himself without acknowledging how fragile he is and ends up like this, and he always has to be reminded that he isn’t on his own. He never thinks about things the right way, and gets torn up by his own insecurities. He’s messy, and easily distracted except for volleyball, and likes to think about things too much, and he never goes to sleep when he should.

(And in his heart is the sea, harsh and wild, and it drives him without regard to the rest of his needs, unaware that there are people behind him, making sure he doesn't drown.)

“Don’t get so cocky, idiot. It’s not just you, didn’t I tell you that? It’s about every single person on the court. If you suck at something, then someone else can cover for you until you get it right. Nobody can do everything.” He snorts. “Especially you.”

“How mean, Iwa-chan.”

“Just do what you know how to do.” Hajime answers. “You are a good setter, and your serves are gonna improve. Believe in yourself, and believe in the team.”

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and faces Oikawa straight on.

“We all trust you. Do you get that?” He says, and then, "Don't you trust us?"

There’s a pause, and Oikawa's eyes wobble, all watery, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, and Hajime says softly, “Nobody can play volleyball alone. Get that into your head already.”

Oikawa doesn’t laugh this time, and he doesn’t say anything either. It’s not until the day he shows up to practice with a knee brace and a strict doctor's note, the team running up to him with concerns, care, that he looks like he really understands, bewilderment all over his face until he schools it into a cheerful fake smile.

When Oikawa becomes captain, he makes a long, drawn out speech, and quotes a story about a bundle of arrows.

(Hajime sees his ambition rise, but it’s almost like it is him, his stare straight into the future, hands outstretched.)

* * *

When they defeat Karasuno, Oikawa works harder, and Hajime keeps it in the back of his mind.

But he stays calm, skills sharp, sense tight as always, and works his best to rise without being taken in.

(He is the sea, all power and depth, as well as above it, leading it like rivers.

Hajime cannot look away.)

It's funny, how he gets a girlfriend then, as if to say he can handle things better than before. Hajime rolls his eyes and ignores him when he brags about it, but it's so rare that he actually talks about her compared to volleyball he can't really be bothered. He spends hours in the gym, same as always, and soon enough she breaks up with him because, to quote, he wasn't what she thought he was.

Hajime laughs at first, when he hears that. She's not wrong, wasn't wrong.

He hears them, from the corners of his classroom, hears them talk about how Oikawa is cool and plays volleyball really well and he thinks that none of them have ever really seen the intensity that Oikawa has, thinks that they'd probably be overwhelmed by his dedication to a single thing. He'd probably make any girl who dated him cry, Hajime thinks, because he'd be too busy chasing after success, any relationship would be throttled, drowned by his mania. 

(But Hajime has seen it for years, has been right by his side, dragging Oikawa out every time it threatens to drown him, letting him ride the current and watching, pride underneath exasperation.

Nobody sees what Hajime knows. Nobody has ever fought with it, has dug their heels into the ground and tugged except for him, throwing in his lines and fishing him up, time and time again.)

When they go home after she's broken up with him, Oikawa is unusually quiet, and leans on Hajime on the way home. He lets him after a couple of minutes protest, warm against his side, sighing, downcast, and yet by the time they’re home he’s back to normal.

(Some part of Hajime hopes he can always bring Oikawa back from whatever he’s fallen into.

Some other part hopes that Oikawa knows that.)

When they lose to Karasuno, the weight crushes him.

His spike, his position, _his_ chance--

\--And Oikawa slaps him on the back and he remembers that it’s not just his anything.

* * *

“You’ll probably never be satisfied.” Hajime says on the way back home from their defeat. Oikawa complains in the background, but Hajime stares up at the sky and continues on, and Oikawa shuts up.

Oikawa’s ambition is boundless, relentless, immortal.

It takes him far and hurts him deep.

“But you will move forward without hesitation,”

Hajime thinks of the way Oikawa’s ambition is like a force,

“you’re the partner I can boast about,”

And Hajime thinks of when they were small and dreamed too big,

“you’re a really amazing setter,”

And Hajime feels his own ambitions, like fire,

“even if the team changes, that will not change,”

And Hajime thinks about the future, and imagines it with and without him,

“but when we fight, I will defeat you.”

And Hajime believes that even if they are forced to clash, there will be nothing but good things about it.

Oikawa is his best friend. Oikawa is his inspiration and his rival and his friend all at once, his teammate, the one who he believes in wholeheartedly, the one who he wants to take care of and the one he wants to beat. Oikawa is difficult, and flashy, and annoying, and Hajime believes that no matter where he goes, he will succeed, reaching into the sky for further, for more. And no matter what happens, he’ll be there for him, because he can’t imagine not being there for his every victory and his every loss, even if those things are inversely related to Hajime.

“Bring it on.” Oikawa says, expression full of confidence, smile a little bitter.

And Hajime still feels the weight of loss on his shoulders, remembering the last match of his high school volleyball career, and knuckle to knuckle with Oikawa, he thinks, _I’ve never hesitated before._

* * *

Karasuno’s match against Shiratorizawa is something to watch.

Hajime can’t lie, watching Karasuno play, he’s impressed at how well they’re managing in their own way.

He finds Oikawa easily in the stands when he looks, because he knew he would be here. Hajime’s willing to bet his feet took him this direction before he could protest.

They sit and they watch and they stratagize and Hajime wonders, when the final point is made, for just a second, what it would feel like if they were standing there.

They go home with a silence that says they’re thinking about the same thing, and they stay outside, leaning against a railing, stopping at a convenience store for snacks, because there are still things to be said, jabs to be made, thoughts to get out.

And Hajime watches the storm in Oikawa’s smile, hears the sullen tone in his voice, sees the power within such an obnoxious, shatterable frame, and he can’t look away.

(Hajime thinks he’s beautiful.)

And when all that bitterness is done, and they’re quiet, Hajime thinks, _now._

“Listen, Oikawa--”

**Author's Note:**

> I should really be writing and doing a bunch of other things, but yet. Here we are.
> 
> Honestly this fic is really stream of consciousness, I wrote it because I got frustrated at how people interpreted Oikawa's ambition. I can kind of relate to Oikawa in some ways when it comes to his ambitiousness, and I just wanted to convey it in the way I felt it was like....And then two-birds-one-stone'd it by making it iwaoi. Ish. 
> 
> Writing for Haikyuu is definitely a little odd, given that there are so many characters that it's hard to get a solid voice down for some of them without feeling like it's off, but here's hoping I did them justice.


End file.
